Valley of the Dolls

Given her background—a television starlet, who didn't quite make it to the top—it was impossible that Jacqueline Susann had written a novel. It was even more impossible that she had written anything worth reading. However, as it figures out, Jacqueline Susann didn't care about logic, and instead of the smutty predecessor of the modern chick lit novel, we get a socially conscious, audaciously feminist literary novel underneath the veil of a roman á clef in the now infamous and classic 1966 Valley of the Dolls. Chronicling the lives of three friends in a twenty year period, from 1945 to 1965, as they strive to reach the top in the social world of men, Susann's novel is stirring and beckons the reader to turn the page—again and show more again. Yet most striking, and what makes its readers continue, are her characters: Anne, the plainly beautiful protagonist who just wants to make a life of her own; Neely, a small but powerful lady with a voice to match; and Jennifer, the gorgeous lady who wields her power with her youthful body, all of whom are drawn out so completely, in their flaws, perfections, and most of all their power and claim to it, that readers have not choice but to believe and most importantly care. Simply put, Susann is a masterful storyteller. Running through the plot are themes of woman empowerment, the ability to choose, and the disdainful society treat women who have mastered these concepts. Sadly, this is lost in Susann's legacy of shock and scandal and perhaps at her sometimes (very) unskillful and clumsy writing, or as Truman Capote phrased it "typing." However, in the same vain that Jennifer Weiner claimed that chick lit was an elitist term, perhaps holding and labeling Susann's novel as merely romance (which is it not for many reasons) and popular literature of no use for serious readers is an elitist practice that bars us from socially active literature such as this 400-page volume of a story. show less

fabulously depressing, valley of the dolls is the perfect showbusiness corruption story. it highlights the decadence and alienation of the entertainment industry, whilst also commenting on the social restrictions placed on women in this era - all in a very camp manner (probably not intended, but a highlight nonetheless). i loved jennifer and anne (and had a love-hate relationship with neely), and found their stories fascinating. an intimately camp portrait of a descent into, well, the valley of the dolls.

Chick lit of the 60s. Maybe not the best prose I have ever encountered and somewhat predictable but easy to read and highly engaging. However, what I find most fascinating about this book is a depiction of societal attitudes and changes in social norms that were going on at that time (sexism, female roles in society, measures of success, mental illness etc.). That's what Funny Girl by Nick Hornby tried to do but failed miserably. Despite being a better written book language/character-wise the sixties setting felt contrived. I guess that's why it's hard to find a good historical fiction book: even a low quality piece written at the time described would almost always be better at relaying the feel of an era.

Yes, folks, it's another one of those books I'm embarrassed to love. It's sheer trashy soap opera, and pure fun to read. If you think the movie is one of those so-bad-it's-good classics (and it is), run out and get the book THIS SECOND. First of all, you won't be distracted by the dreadful, dreadful acting by Sharon Tate, Barbara Parkins, and of course Patty Duke. (Granted, the book doesn't have Susan Hayward, but nothing is perfect.) Second, you don't have to sit through the suck-ass musical numbers. Third, you'll get the thrill of having everyone on public transportation stare at you in disbelief, thinking, "Is she actually reading that book!?!" Way, way fun.

This book is like cotton candy covered in glitter, fabulous and unappetizing. The women are so attractive, and the men are so rich, and every single one of them is a miserable bastard. But damn me if their descent into misery isn't the most entertaining thing ever. I would read parts out to my boyfriend and he would be like, "Haha, seriously... what just happened? Did that just happen?" This book is like, the most scathing critique of sexism that has absolutely no idea that it is a scathing critique of sexism.

The movie is TERRIBLE, btw. Maybe I'll watch some Mad Men instead... and yeah the first 100 or so pages seem pretty boring but you gotta get past that, man. I mean, you don't just stop watching Alien just before the chestburster show more scene, right?

And I leave you with Charlene's "Never Been To Me"

Hey lady, you, lady, cursin' at your life
You're a discontented mother and a regimented wife
I've no doubt you dream about the things you never do
But I wish someone had a talk to me like I wanna talk to you
Ooh I've been to Georgia and California, oh, anywhere I could run
Took the hand of a preacherman and we made love in the sun
But I ran out of places and friendly faces because I had to be free

I've been to paradise, but I've never been to me

Please lady, please, lady, don't just walk away
'Cause I have this need to tell you why I'm all alone today
I can see so much of me still living in your eyes
Won't you share a part of a weary heart that has lived a million lies
Oh I've been to Nice and the isle of Greece
Where I sipped champagne on a yacht
I moved like Harlow in Monte Carlo and showed 'em what I've got
I've been undressed by kings and I've seen some things
That a woman ain't s'posed to see

I've been to paradise, but I've never been to me

Hey, you know what paradise is? It's a lie
A fantasy we create about people and places as we'd like them to be
But you know what truth is?
It's that little baby you're holding, and it's that man you fought with this morning
The same one you're going to make love with tonight. That's truth, that's love

Sometimes I've been to cryin' for unborn children
That might have made me complete
But I, I took the sweet life and never knew I'd be bitter from the sweet
I spent my life exploring the subtle whoring that cost too much to be free

Hey lady, I've been to paradise, but I've never been to me

I've been to paradise - never been to me
(I've been to Georgia and California, and anywhere I could run)
I've been to paradise - never been to me
(I've been to Nice and the isle of Greece
While I sipped champagne on a yacht)
I've been to paradise - never been to me
(I've been to cryin' for unborn children )
(Fade)
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Or How To Write An American Classic

This is going to sound crazy, but hear me out: The Valley of the Dolls is totally like The Great Gatsby.

One is a culturally-important, best-selling, drug-fueled, homoerotic classic with several unfortunate movie adaptations; the other is well, a culturally-important, best-selling, drug-fueled, homoerotic classic with this gem in it:

"Give me back my hair, you little bitch," Helen yelled. "It cost me three hundred bucks!"... "Hey--what the hell are you doing?" Helen screamed. She turned to Anne. "Jesus, she's throwing in the can, I bet. I'll kill her, that little bitch!"

Actually there a lot of other parallels: the themes of reinvention through false identities, focuses on the American dream of success show more (note that it's becoming a stinking rich capitalist for men and a famous and revered for women), and plots that hinge on characters doing stupid shit because of LOVE.

But the similarity that really jumped out at me was how both novels exploit our obsession with wealth (and fame) by luxuriating in its excesses, and then reassure us about our lack of these things by depicting its wealthy (and famous) main characters as incredibly miserable and/or terrible people.

Hey don't be fooled by the persona. I may spend some of my free time reading and deeply thinking about important literature, but people who know me also know I am a habitual online reader of celebrity gossip. It probably speaks to some weird primal impulse to raise individuals to mythic proportions and then tear them down, but also, more relevantly to this discussion, a manifestation of the rather schizophrenic cultural attitudes that define "success". If we really think "success" should be moral and material, why do we think they are contradictory?

Hell if I know. And if any book offered the answers, perhaps novels that followed this narrative arc and purpose would be less compelling. Until that day though, it's a winning premise, and I will probably never stop reading celebrity gossip pages, no matter how much I know on an intellectual level that the "information" they dispense is totally a)false, b)trivial, and c)ethically deplorable.

Does this make The Valley of the Dolls a good book? Heck no. Each of the three main characters we follow hardly has two characteristics to rub together: Anne is a frigid New Englander, Neely is talented and needy, Jennifer is beautiful and… untalented. For all it’s supposedly about their personal success, really it’s all about them defining themselves solely through their men—a mistake made by Susann as much as the characters, as she quickly scuttles the interesting backstage-show-business angle to squeeze in more torrid sex/love affairs. This obsession with the men in their lives is all the more baffling for how none of the male characters barely even has one characteristic, let alone any attractive ones. Susann's pacing is all over the place, she appears to lose interest in Jennifer at some point, and her idea of what is shocking is actually mostly campy, sometimes to the point of hilarity like the mentally-disabled crooner. On the plus side, this makes The Valley of the Dolls a mostly painless read, one that I finished fairly quickly and which left me enough brain cells free to come up with the idea that it's totally like The Great Gatsby. Rating: 2 stars

To summarize:
1. Money. Think Cribs.
2. Sex. Preferably the good kind. Only literary critics like sad, bad sex.
3. Drugs. Obviously catered to the time period/setting.
4. Punish characters for getting the money, sex, and drugs. Because we are hypocrites.
5. Sprinkle in some homoerotism. Only for the flavor or the titillation, don't be doing any real treatment on the topic, it will doom the novel to the "genre" ghetto.
6. Don't forget the tragic ending. At least one character should die via suicide.
7. Don't bother coming up with complex motivations for when you need your characters to do stupid, destructive shit: just pin it on love.
8. "Women be bitches" OR "Men be assholes". But remember, similarly to #5: if you make a male-viewpoint novel, it will be hailed as literature for everyone; if you make it a female-viewpoint novel, it will be branded for the "women's literature". show less

I read this in high school... goodness knows why. I didn't particularly enjoy it, though it does keep moving along and kind of holds you in town hoping that eventually things will go right for the characters or that they will have some insight into their lives and take a little responsibility or face up and change eventually... but it never happens. This has got to be one of the most depressing books I've ever read. Unfortunately I can't even really say it presents women in a bad light or unfairly, because I still know women like this. I think this novel is a kind of anti-feminist classic; a kind of cautionary tale that maybe all teen girls should read so they don't ever grow up to be mindless bimbos who - despite their brains and show more talent and success and friendships with other women - STILL define themselves and their happiness entirely through the eyes and desires of men. show less